


Bullseye

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Archery, First Dates, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Mentors, Movie Night, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9188318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Roy hit a button and the target began to move. "Again."He watched the way Damian's body sank into the comfort ofmovement, how he fell into each step, twist, and turn with an expertise that Roy hadn't honestly realized he had. He dodged imaginary attacks, ducked and then rolled into a crouch and fired the first arrow. It was maybe a quarter inch to the right of the others, putting it squarely in the center of the bullseye.Damian was up and running before Roy could anticipate it and he tracked him around the room, watched the ease of how he launched himself from one ledge to the next, up over the crates and onto the top of the thinnest bar in the room. He dropped low, balance impeccable, and fired his next shot without hesitation. It hit a half inch under the first one and he heard the sound of frustration Damian issued before he launched himself off the railing and fired his next shot mid-air. Another half inch down and Damian snarled, whirling around as he grabbed another arrow and shot it, this one dead center, knocking the first bullseye out of place.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Damian is aged up here. For My Writing Challenge list #12 Realization.  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: [Music of the Orient Turkish, Arabic and Persian Relax and Chillout Mix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rullik7xMhc)

Roy's hands smoothed down over Damian's arms, lightly correcting his posture, the way he held the bow in his grip, gently redirecting his aim until he was true with the target they were aiming to hit with the next arrow. He was _careful_ , his touch built to correct and nothing more, his body keeping a safe distance from Damian's own. Before he'd ever accepted being Damian's _tutor_ in archery, he'd been taken aside by Dick, informed of how easily Damian struck out if he thought someone was too close to him, how even after all these years, he was still so easy to set off.

Stepping back, he judged the distance and the amount of tension Damian was putting on the bowstring, just how tightly he was holding the grip. "Do you see the difference in how I just repositioned you?"

"I do." Damian's voice was quiet, calmer than Roy had honestly expected it to be given the way he'd just asked the question.

"A little more tension and breathe in and when you breathe out, release it. Keep it on target."

He watched Damian do as he told him, nearly holding his breath for a moment as he let go and the arrow shot through the air, thudding into the target, shaft burying itself nearly halfway into the wood with the force of the impact. It wasn't quite dead center, but it was damn close. 

"Again. This time without my corrections."

Damian pulled another arrow from the quiver on his back, taking careful aim and then letting it go. It hit right beside the first one and Roy smiled.

"Faster. Three in a row."

Damian did as he asked, the third knocking one of the other arrows out of its way to bury itself nearly in the same spot.

"Take a step in between shots, adjust for it."

Again, the arrows collected in the same spot, each one crowding closing in on the others. The fourth one, Damian dropped to a crouch and let it fly, the crack of another arrow's shaft telling he'd hit home. 

Roy hit a button and the target began to move. "Again."

He watched the way Damian's body sank into the comfort of _movement_ , how he fell into each step, twist, and turn with an expertise that Roy hadn't honestly realized he had. He dodged imaginary attacks, ducked and then rolled into a crouch and fired the first arrow. It was maybe a quarter inch to the right of the others, putting it squarely in the center of the bullseye. 

Damian was up and running before Roy could anticipate it and he tracked him around the room, watched the ease of how he launched himself from one ledge to the next, up over the crates and onto the top of the thinnest bar in the room. He dropped low, balance impeccable, and fired his next shot without hesitation. It hit a half inch under the first one and he heard the sound of frustration Damian issued before he launched himself off the railing and fired his next shot mid-air. Another half inch down and Damian snarled, whirling around as he grabbed another arrow and shot it, this one dead center, knocking the first bullseye out of place.

Roy debated his tactics now, wondering if he should tell him how good it was for someone who hadn't even held the bow right two days ago or if he should push him harder. Whatever he could say, he was certain it wouldn't be nearly as harsh as Damian was being on himself. 

He stopped a few paces back from him, took in how little the rush around the training course had affected Damian; how his breath was only the slightest bit heightened, how he hadn't even broken a sweat, and he wondered how he usually trained. 

"You think too hard on what you will say to me."

Roy didn't fight the smile that slid across his lips at that. "Guilty as charged." He moved to Damian's side. "I think you're being too hard on yourself. Your frustration shows." His hand twitched toward Damian, wanting to offer a light touch to his shoulder to let him know he was being sincere. He'd always talked with his hands and he _knew_ that was why Dick had come to him, had warned him before he had accepted the job. His fingers curled and he placed his hand back to his side. "Three days ago, you didn't even know you were going to do this. Two days ago, you couldn't have hit the target if I'd lined you up with it. Yesterday, you were missing shots that you took and _made_ today. You're getting better every single day and it shows. It's not going to happen overnight, though," he huffed out a laugh, "you are making _me_ look bad for how long I took to get to where I am."

He watched the way Damian's eyes flitted over his bare arms, down to his hand that was clenched at his side, and then curiosity showed blatantly in his gaze before he looked away again. "You stopped yourself from touching me." His head tilted slightly as he extracted the last arrow from the quiver and settled it into place, taking the utmost care to line up the shot. One breath in and then slowly out and he fired, the arrow neatly landing dead-center, not just within the bullseye. "Grayson spoke with you."

Roy pushed his hands into the pockets of his worn-out blue jeans and shrugged. "Yeah. Said you don't like people touching you unless it's absolutely necessary."

"To which you have decided that I do not want touches that _you_ find necessary." He held the bow out and Roy took it and then Damian was off across the room, hitting the button to stop the target from moving. 

Damian pulled the arrows free that could be reused, trashing the ones that he'd done a number on. He slid the quiver free of his back and placed the arrows in it, heading back towards Roy, already about to put it back on when Roy reached out, grasping the strap and stopping him. Their eyes met for an instant before Damian looked away, relinquishing his hold on it.

"Look..." Roy moved to place the bow and quiver on the table behind them. "I don't know where my boundaries are, so I'm erring on the side of caution."

"Was it not a risk to even take me on as your understudy?"

Roy huffed out a breath, shaking his head. "Understudy? You think I'm good enough to be - what - your _mentor_? I'm hardly Oliver-"

"Stop." Damian turned to face him, his features a mask of complete un-amusement. "You do not realize your potential or how much you have grown _without_ him." Crossing his arms, Damian regarded Roy in a way that made him feel as though he could see right through him. "Queen is flashy, he has anger issues and likes to put on a show with whatever he does. Flashy is _not_ a display of skill. The last time _Batman_ and I worked with him, he missed three times. One was a shot I just made." Damian moved to the table, reaching to run his fingertips over the bow, watching it instead now. "You do not miss. If you cannot make the shot, you do not take it. There's knowledge in that. Tactic and ability that shows you know your limits and understand when to react and when to _wait_."

For an instant, Roy stood there, his lips parted, half a retort lodged in his throat as he realized that Damian Wayne _did not_ compliment people. He swallowed down his protest, leaning against the table with one hand, chewing his lower lip until he finally offered up the only thing he could think to say. "I don't think anyone's ever put it that way."

"You are not used to hearing the truth." Damian took a step closer to him, his fingertips leaving the bow and instead coming to rest ever-so-gently on Roy's hand. "From you, I will accept whatever touch you feel the need to provide. You are holding back your nature for me. Do not."

Roy stared down at Damian's fingertips pressed against his skin, at how _easily_ he held himself in this moment, and then lifted his head to meet Damian's eyes, searching them for answers, finding only the same hardened look he always wore. 

"I only want you to be comfortable." The words were out of his mouth before he could think of how it might sound, but Damian's lips quirked in the closest thing to a smile that Roy had ever seen him wear. 

"May I impose another question upon you?"

The formality of the question left Roy trying not to laugh; created a strangled little noise before he managed to get out a single word: "Sure?"

Damian took another half a step toward him, his hand coming up to snag the edge of the vest he was wearing and Roy felt as if his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest all of a sudden. When Damian met his eyes again, there was something else burning deep within them, the cold-as-ice look he'd found there every single other time melted away by the heat that glistened there now. "Kiss me?"

Roy felt his throat close off, felt the ignition of something undeniable in his gut as his gaze was drawn downward, settled on Damian's perfect lips, on how _soft_ they looked. The evaluation of his feelings on this situation was quick, landed him squarely on the conclusion that he wanted - very much - to kiss Damian. 

Stepping in the last little bit, moving close enough that their thighs brushed and it was easy to slip his hand onto Damian's hip, he made his decision. Reaching to cup his hand on the back of Damian's neck, he leaned in and ever so gently grazed his lips over Damian's own. 

The softest of sighs left Damian's lips and then he was pressing closer, pushing his lips more fully against Roy's until Roy parted his lips and Damian's tongue flitted curiously along his lower lip, the most tentative of flicks across his own tongue and then Roy was _lost in it_. His fingertips flexed as he fitted their lips against one another more completely, dipped his tongue into Damian's mouth, finding and caressing Damian's tongue until Damian was grasping at him, yanking him closer, turning and guiding them so that he was sitting on the table and Roy was slotted between his legs. 

Only then did Damian draw back, licking his lips and watching Roy with those fearless green eyes. "Sometimes Grayson can be a fool."

Roy's fingers slid around to lightly ghost over Damian's cheek, down over his jaw and over his throat. "Maybe he was just trying to be cautious."

Damian caught Roy's hand, drew it to his mouth and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his wrist, watching him over the top of it. Moving up, he sucked one finger into his mouth and then grazed his teeth along it as he pulled away from it. "Perhaps he was trying to save you."

Roy shivered, his free hand coming to rest on Damian's thigh. "I don't want to be saved from this."

Damian let go of his hand, settled back onto both of his own hands and simply regarded Roy for a moment. "Take me to the drive-in theater and let's see where it gets you."

"How did you-"

"Know you had one?" Damian lightly moved Roy back and slid down off the table, brushing past him. "Think on it, I know you have more than air in that head of yours." He paused once he reached the door. "Seven-thirty, tonight. Bring _your_ car, I like it."

Just like that, Damian was gone and Roy was left staring at the door. He slumped over the table, palms pressed against it, his head bowed as he tried to figure out just what kind of strange world he'd stumbled into. A world where Damian Wayne _clearly_ wanted a piece of him.

\----

Roy showed up at the hotel Damian was staying at just before seven-fifteen, nerves pushing him to arrive early. He pulled around the absurdly lavish guest pickup roundabout and moved to the put the car in park. He hadn't even managed that when a bellboy opened the passenger door and Damian slid into the car. Roy watched the ease with which money changed hands, watched Damian pull his seat belt on and then the bellboy close the door and step away with a quiet, "Good evening, Mr. Wayne."

Somewhat to Roy's surprise, Damian hadn't dressed up. In fact, he seemed to have done his best to do the opposite: a pair of black jeans that fit him maybe _too_ well and a plain gray v-neck graced his body. A red hoodie rested over his lap, folded neatly in half and Roy didn't miss how tightly Damian seemed to be clutching at it, as if it were the lifeline to his nerves. 

Something about knowing Damian was nervous actually put Roy at ease enough to pull away from the curb and ease back into the flow of traffic, heading in the direction of the drive in. "You had a movie in mind?"

"There are three starting at eight-fifteen. You may choose what we watch."

Roy felt his lips curve up into a smile, his amusement unstoppable at just how in control Damian was of every facet of his life. He allowed the illusion of other people having choices; had grown to perfect a way to make people feel more at ease with him by offering options on the things he planned out. For a moment, Roy wondered just how life would feel, planned out in such detail, knowing exactly what was happening and when, being so rarely caught off guard. 

Pulling up to a stoplight, Roy chanced another glance at Damian, found him gazing down at his hands as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. In an instant, Roy's heart went out to Damian. This wasn't his forte. Hell, from what he could tell, Damian Wayne had never been publicly on a date, had never officially been _with_ anyone, and from what he had heard personally, he only kept a very tight knit group of friends around him and rarely let anyone else in. 

Dick was always on about how much he worried that Damian's friends would eventually drift - as tended to happen when people grew up and moved away - and he'd be left all alone. But even when that started to happen, it didn't appear to have any effect on Damian's friendships. People moved and from the Titans rumblings Roy heard that Damian still kept up with them just as often, made a point to keep them as close as ever. Perhaps, it had been something Dick should have thought about in his worry. Damian's determination had always proved to be a wonderful asset and it wasn't a leap that it would be in his personal life as well.

Sliding one hand off the steering wheel, he stretched it out towards Damian, palm up and waited. It took a moment, but finally Damian's hand settled against his own and Roy linked their fingers, squeezing lightly as they continued on towards the theater. The silence stretched out between them and finally, Roy spit out the first thing he could think of. "So, uh, still play violin?"

Damian managed an amused little huff, his fingers flexing in Roy's hold. "I do."

"I heard you once. Don't know if you knew it or not, but Oliver and I, we were in the area and saw the sign and figured we'd stop in."

"Oh?" Genuine curiosity laced Damian's voice now and Roy could hear the seat creak as he shifted to look at him.

"Yeah. You were really good. You didn't look up, but... you had some people in tears with how emotional it was. When they clapped for you," he chanced a glance before looking back at the road, "they _meant it_."

Roy could feel Damian relax then, could feel the grip on his hand turn into something more pleasant. "That is nice to know."

They were quiet until Roy got them into the line of cars leading up to the theater. Only then did Damian speak up again. "Grayson says you make things. Experimental weapons and sometimes you work on cars." He paused and then tacked on. "He says you're good at it."

Roy rolled down the window - as they were only a few cars back in line now - and let out a quiet hum. "Yeah, I do and I'm glad he thinks so."

Another car moved away and Damian extracted his hand from Roy's, shifting to pull out his wallet. "Will it be okay if I pay for this portion? You could, perhaps, get us the required snacks? Or... I could... either way." The last bit sounded uncertain, sounded as if Damian had been warned not to step on people's toes when it came to money and he just wasn't sure how to go about it.

Roy accepted the cash Damian offered and gave him a soft smile. "You don't have to worry about showing me a mask, you know. I mean, I already know which one is the mask and which one is the reality." He handed over the money and tapped the picture of the movie he wanted to see with Damian, getting their change back and the receipt, the teller pointing them in the right direction for their screen. He eased the car down the twisting road toward their designated screen, tucking the piece of paper away in the cup holder for the time being. "I knew what I was getting when I agreed to come out tonight and I wouldn't have accepted if I didn't want to be here with _you_."

He found them a parking spot slightly to the left of center, midway up so they wouldn't have to crane their necks or squint to see words if there happened to be any. He held the change back out to Damian as he turned off the engine. Moving to grab the little speaker, he placed it over the window and then rolled the window up until it was only open a sliver. "Just be yourself. Don't worry about presenting some obscured version of who you are to me." 

Roy turned then, flicking his seat belt off with ease and pulling his knee up on the bench seat, reaching out a hand to Damian, watching as Damian placed his own back within Roy's grasp. "Now, lay it on me. What were your intentions with the snacks?"

He watched the shock and then amusement war it out on Damian's features before Damian actually _chuckled_. "I don't actually care about them."

"Neither do I." Roy gestured at Damian's seat belt. "I do care that you're going to get awful uncomfortable buckled in for the whole movie though."

Something dangerous danced in Damian's eyes for a moment as he guided Roy's hand down to the buckle, pressing his fingertips against the release. "Then do something about it."

Roy pressed his fingers down on the little silver button, reached with the other hand to catch the belt so it didn't retract too quickly, easing it back, over Damian's shoulder, off his arm, leaning in as he guided it back into the holder. 

He caught the briefest glimpse of a smirk on Damian's lips and then he was being hauled toward Damian, having to reach out to the door to catch himself it was so fast. Their lips collided and he felt Damian relax under his half-sprawled weight. The thought flitted through his mind that maybe _this_ was what had had Damian on edge the whole time, that maybe the tension had been decidedly sexual in nature.

This time there was nothing tentative about the kiss. Damian's tongue was sliding against his own within seconds and the hand fisted tightly in the front of his own button-up was twisting to bring him closer and closer. The sensation of being so _wanted_ rocketed through Roy, stealing his breath away in a way he hadn't been quite prepared for. Sure, he knew Damian was at least attracted to him, the display had been pretty obvious back on the training course. But this was something else entirely. This was something that felt like it had been a long time coming, that felt like pent up emotions and a driving _necessity_ that he couldn't quite reconcile with Damian just yet.

Their lips parted as the volume came on for the previews, Damian giving him another quick kiss, mouth hard against his own before he released him, all but shoving him back toward his side of the seat. Roy settled back, blinking at Damian in a way that probably belayed just how clogged up his brain was at the moment. Finally, he reached up, wiping his hand over his mouth.

" _Damn_." The word was quiet, barely a breath, and he heard Damian's little throaty noise in response to it as he situated himself in his seat, eyes on the screen now.

Distantly, Roy knew he should be watching the screen, that he shouldn't be focusing on Damian right then, but he just didn't care yet. Previews could be ignored in favor of taking in the slight color on Damian's cheeks, the pigment of exhilaration. The way his eyes were so full of vitality and warmth that it was almost impossible to reconcile that with the cold, focused person he'd known for years. 

Finally, he turned to look at the screen, still not really seeing it, instead letting his mind run over all of the facts, trying to make sense of them. Damian had always been there when major events were going down. Whenever the Titans and the Teen Titans needed to interact, he'd been right there at the forefront of it, meeting them head-on with a confidence that some might have thought undeserved... until they saw him in action. He'd watched him go from a kid that could barely keep his bloodlust in check to an adult that could tamp the lid down on it quicker than the rest of them. He'd watched something savage and unrefined turn into a work of art and somewhere, distantly, he realized it wasn't just Damian that had been looking at him differently for a while now. 

His mind dredged up the glances, the way Damian had started to linger closer to him when there wasn't much of a point, how Damian had _insisted_ Roy needed to be the one to help them out instead of Oliver a few times - including with this whole archery endeavor. The pieces started to fall into place as to just how much he had been orchestrating in an attempt to get them closer together and just how often Damian spoke to him when he said nothing - or very little - to everyone else. The only other person Roy had ever seen Damian say more than a handful of words to was Dick and given what he knew about how Damian had become Robin all those years ago, he could understand why that was.

Roy felt the warmth radiating off of Damian's body before he became consciously aware that Damian was moving toward him. It struck him just how _silent_ he really was, even in his day to day life as Damian settled against his side. One hand came down to rest on his thigh, an action that was followed immediately by a spiral of warmth through Roy's body.

It was absurd, really, how easily Damian was affecting him, how quickly he made him feel like he was far less experienced than he was. Sliding his arm along the back of the seat, he settled his hand on Damian's shoulder, thumb finding where his shirt ended and skin began. Damian's hand rubbed idly at his thigh, working him up the longer he kept it up. 

He tried to focus on the movie, he really did, but with Damian's hand stroking over his thigh, all he could honestly think about was how Damian was going to react if he took note of just how much such a tiny action was turning Roy on right then. Every breath was a fight to keep it from hitching, every exhale a struggle not to make some variety of noise. Every single movement of Damian's hand was one more moment that Roy had to fight against his urge to put that hand to a different sort of use.

Letting his head drop back, Roy squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, fighting with himself over what to do, finally settling on saying he'd changed his mind about snacks. His lips parted to offer some explanation about needing caffeine, but the words lodged themselves in his throat as Damian turned, pulling one leg up under him on the seat, leaving him half kneeling on it. Both hands came to Roy's belt and settled there, their eyes meeting for a moment, an unasked question in Damian's silence, and Roy couldn't do anything except nod.

Damian's fingers set to work opening his belt, popping the button of the only pair of slacks Roy owned and lowering the zipper. Roy didn't stop the little whimpering moan that swelled up from inside of him, didn't stop the way his hand clenched on the seat as he watched what Damian was doing. Warm fingers carefully shifted his underwear out of the way and while Roy had expected Damian's hand, what he got wasn't even on the list of possibilities that his brain had supplied him with. The wet heat of Damian's mouth engulfed him and Roy nearly choked, his hips arching before he had time to register what his body's reaction was. 

Fire ignited at the base of his spine and he reached down, pushing Damian's hair back from his face, watching as he pulled off and licked and sucked his way down the side of Roy's shaft. This tongue licked up the underside and then Roy was back in Damian's mouth, all warmth and intensity.

Some part of Roy couldn't quite believe this was happening, couldn't merge this Damian - his mouth full of Roy's cock - with the nerve-stricken stone that Damian had been earlier. 

Damian pulled up off of Roy's cock and before he knew it, their lips were moving against one another. He could taste himself on Damian's tongue, could feel just how _affected_ Damian was by the warmth of his body alone, everything else just reconfirming it for him. 

Damian's hand encircled his wrist, tugging his hand down, pushing it down over the _very_ hard evidence of his arousal, his hips rocking into the touch. The most beautiful of sounds issued from Damian's mouth and Roy answered it with one of his own, tongue spearing into Damian's mouth as he moved both hands to help him in getting Damian's pants open. 

His hand slid inside the fabric, wrapping his fingers around Damian's length and giving it a few good pumps before letting go and starting to shift clothing actually out of the way. He got his hand back around him again, Damian reaching for him as well. They settled in a rhythm, both of them stroking in tandem with one another, tongues lazy against one another until Damian pulled away, settled back and reached up to free Roy's hair from his ponytail, letting it fall free. They stared at one another for a moment, Damian finally reaching to hook his thumbs into his belt loops, tugging his jeans down a bit more, exposing himself more fully. One hand came up to tangle in Roy's hair, guiding him for a rough kiss and whispered words against his lips.

"Suck me off." Not a request.

The fire in Roy's belly burned brighter as he nipped at Damian's lower lip, easing himself into a better position to do this. He didn't hesitate, holding the base of Damian's cock as he leaned over him and sucked the head into his mouth, flicking his tongue, gathering the slick of pre-cum that had formed there. He flicked the tip of his tongue along the slit, earning him a little groan, the pressure of Damian's hand resting on the back of his head, not forcing, but _there_.

Roy shifted slightly and he started to work himself up and down Damian's length, letting his tongue explore him completely, memorizing how his lips felt stretched around him, how he tasted in his mouth and how it was different than his own taste on Damian's tongue. 

Damian's hand trembled slightly on the back of his head and he could feel the way he curled his fingers into a fist to keep from doing anything. The strain came back to Damian's body, the frustrated little huff tipping him off to just how close Damian was and that he wasn't getting what he needed to tip him over the edge. He added together how everything had been a question followed by an _order_ and he mapped Damian out in his head, realizing he needed to be completely in control to cum. 

Pulling up, he licked at the head again and then pressed his lips to the underside, kissing Damian there, his words mumbled against his shaft. "Anything you need. Show me how to make you cum."

The moan Damian let out was louder than Roy had expected him to be, but he didn't have a lot of time to dwell on it before Damian's hands moved. One pushed his hair back, held it there as he guided him down toward his cock. His other hand slid down to hold the base steady as he arched his hips up to meet Roy's mouth. A few short thrusts into his mouth and all the tension eased away again. His hips began to move in earnest, his hand pushing Roy down to meet his thrusts, using Roy's mouth for his pleasure.

That little fire at the base of Roy's spine began to burn out of control again and if he hadn't had a mouthful of cock, he would have laughed at himself for not having realized he liked being pushed around. All this time he'd been the one in control of things, but it seemed - perhaps - he'd been wrong in assuming that's what his body wanted. He was so hard he felt like he could cum at any second, could feel the clench in his belly that was generally a preamble to the main event, could feel his heart pounding out of control as he was pushed down on Damian's dick again and again.

He came up off of him as Damian yanked him back, his hand starting to jerk harshly over his cock as he held Roy down to keep him there. He could hear the harsh pant of Damian's breath, the barely held back moans and cries, and then Damian's hips were arching, the tip of his cock pushing just past Roy's lips and Damian was making the smallest noises of pleasure. The first salty splash of cum landed over his tongue and Roy pushed himself down onto Damian's cock, instantly greedy for more of it. It wasn't that he liked the taste of cum or that he even got off on taking it in his mouth, but rather that he could own a piece of his lover so completely as to be allowed to _swallow_ it down and never give it back. 

The thought drifted through his mind that maybe he should have realized he liked being bossed around a long time before this as he pushed down on Damian's length until he was feeling the pulse of it in his throat, fighting the need for air against the need to let Damian finish cumming before he let him have his cock back. 

Damian pushed at him, finally yanking at his hair, shoving him back against his door. This time he saw it coming, knew Damian was going to take him back in his mouth and finish him off the same way, but he wasn't expecting how _desperate_ he seemed to get his mouth back on him. Nothing could have prepared him for the way Damian kept taking him in until his throat was constricting with the need to swallow, until he was gripping his thigh so hard Roy was dimly aware that he'd have a reminder of this for weeks in the form of a bruise.

It wasn't until Damian straight-up gagged on him that Damian gave it a rest for a second, panting, still hunched over him. He reached to stroke back his hair, about to tell him it was okay, but Damian was back down on him again, this time with more control. His sucks were long and fluid now, the glide on his tongue smooth and calculated. _This_ was for Roy and in that it became starkly clear that the previous display had been entirely for Damian. _He_ had wanted him so desperately he'd damn near choked himself on him.

Roy let his head drop back against the seat, allowing his hips the slightest of movements, gentle pushes up into Damian's mouth as he worked over him. 

Turning his head, he watched as Damian's hand disappeared underneath his body, as his arm moved in an all too familiar sort of way and Roy knew he was getting off on this, even so soon after he'd cum. He let the smirk come over his lips, sighing in pleasure as Damian's hand moved down to cup his sac, lightly playing with it as he sucked. 

Damian's legs parted more, his hips starting to move as Roy watched, saw his arm speed up, knew he was frantically jacking himself off. 

"Do it... cum for me again. I want you to." His hand stroked over Damian's hair idly, his lids heavy from how good Damian's mouth was being to him right then. He swore he was harder than he'd ever been in that moment. "I'll cum for you, fill your pretty mouth up with it if you'll lose it for me again. C'mon. Show me."

Damian choked out a groan around Roy's cock and then his hips were jerking.

Roy stretched his hand out, settled it on the seat under Damian and felt the warm splashes of cum spurt out over his fingertips. "Oh _shit_ , you're-" he gave a little cry and his hips wrenched upward, pushing him all the way into Damian's mouth, "I'm!" A ragged groan cut off his words and he banged his head back against the seat as he came down Damian's throat, giving him everything he had.

Sagging back down against the seat, he lifted up his hand, examined the sticky mess of Damian's cum on his fingertips. He was about to lick them clean when Damian's hands caught his wrist, held it still as he leaned in and began to clean up his own mess. 

Roy's mouth fell open as he watched him, felt the startled throb of his cock and knew if he hadn't just cum, he probably would have at least flooded himself with pre-cum over this little display. 

Damian moved as he licked at Roy's fingers, crawled over his lap and settled astride him. He licked away at his fingers until they were clean, pulling off with a wet little _pop_ and reaching up to wipe his hand over his own mouth, eyes burning bright as he studied Roy. 

There were a few moments where Roy had no idea what to say and then his mouth engaged itself and before he could challenge the words, he delivered what had to be the worst line he'd ever given. "Guess I know why you didn't want snacks."

Damian's face looked like it was at war with itself for a moment, torn between the quiet calm it had claimed in the wake of his orgasms and the look that finally won out: stunned amusement. "Shit, Roy." He tipped his head back and Roy just stared up at the utter beauty sitting in his lap. Finally, he looked back down at him, thumb moving over Roy's lower lip, pressing in for a moment and the retreating. "Your horrible sense of what is humorous and what is not is what attracted me to you."

The dumbest grin Roy had ever felt on his own face spread across it. "Oh yeah? You mean it wasn't my terrible fashion sense?"

Damian's hand grasped his jaw, held him in place as he kissed him _hard_ , pulling away before Roy could do a single thing, sitting back and starting to put his clothing back in place. "We will work on that." He caught Roy's eye and _winked_ before extracting himself from Roy's lap. The sound of his belt clinking the only sound for a moment as Roy started to force himself to put his pants back into place as well, and then, "So what was this movie about again?"

Roy barked out a laugh, starting to put his belt back on as he shook his head. "To be honest, I have no idea." 

Damian offered his hand and Roy abandoned his belt to take it, twining their fingers and settling for staring at the pure magnificence that was Damian Wayne. Damian's eyes met his for a moment and then flitted away, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Then I suppose we will just have to find out."

Roy squeezed his fingers, turning his gaze back towards the screen, settling in. "Yeah, I suppose we will." The words felt like more on his tongue, felt like they weren't just talking about the movie and it sent something warm to rest between Roy's ribs. They'd find out _together_ and that was fine by him.


End file.
